


the curves of your lips rewrite history

by cheshirecat101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Dark, Fantasizing, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fighting, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Pheromones, Season/Series 05, Sexual Fantasy, Steo, Teen Wolf season 5, Tumblr Prompt, Werewolf Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo had always been in control of everything. But Stiles was never something he'd been prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the curves of your lips rewrite history

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a small tumblr prompt and then, like a lot of my prompts, exploded into something else. I've heavily started shipping Theo with Scott, Stiles, both, and this was an excellent prompt someone gave me that I was wicked psyched about. So. Here you go! (P.S. in case you're wondering, the tense changes are on purpose.)
> 
> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, message me at the email address on my profile if you're interested!

_“The world is changed because you are made of **ivory** and **gold**. The curves of your lips rewrite **history**.”_

—Oscar Wild, _The Picture of Dorian Gray_

 

 

Oh, but he’d seen it coming. 

Theo had known far in advance that this was what was going to happen. Stiles had never liked him, that much was certain, and Theo was uncertain if he ever would. Well, it wasn’t that Stiles didn’t like him. It was more that he didn’t trust him. Because honestly, Stiles’s pheromones gave him away. 

The little uptick in arousal and interest when Theo was around, something he didn’t show with anyone else. The stolen little glances that Theo wasn’t supposed to notice and pretended not to, acting oblivious to the attention that Stiles seemed to reluctantly be giving him. Sometimes it seemed like Stiles was frustrated, maybe with Theo, maybe with both of them, maybe just with himself, and Theo wished that he could kiss along that collarbone, stroke his hands through that now longer hair, soothe away the frustration and anger at himself that Stiles seemed to perpetually carry.

But mostly, he wanted Stiles to trust him. Despite his own…intentions, he wanted to be a part of the pack, and most importantly, wanted Stiles to accept him. Because oh, if Stiles simply accepted him…that opened a whole world of possibilities. One where he actually had a chance at what he wanted, what he felt like he needed with each passing day. 

It shouldn’t have been like this. Of all people he should have liked Scott, right? But oh, that had never been the case. A schoolboy’s crush had come roaring back to life when he came back to Beacon Hills, and now, oh now, it was growing into obsession. He stole glances more than Stiles did, watched him at every opportunity, sometimes even stalked him, mostly in his wolf form. Sometimes in his human form. He’d–subconsciously, it seemed–arranged his schedule for school so he at least had some classes with Stiles, though more with Scott, the one he was really trying to get in with.

But was that even true anymore? Scott seemed to be the one that he was winning over, slowly but surely, and Stiles was the stubborn holdout. The one that was denying whatever feelings he had towards Theo and trying to remain suspicious, and succeeding. And yet Theo could hear his heartbeat pick up speed every time Theo entered a room that he was in, every time he came to their aid. And what did that tell him?

Oh, so very many things. But what told him more were Stiles’s words, the things that he said whenever they were alone, or even with the pack, and right now, they were alone, and Stiles was gritting his teeth while Theo was smiling slightly at him, not quite a smirk because that wasn’t the appropriate expression for the conversation. He didn’t want to upset the delicate balance between Stiles’s rage and uncontrollable feelings, wanted to let him realize it all on his own. Come around, and give Theo what he wanted. And oh, did he want.

They’d been “fighting” for at least a half hour now, Stiles repeating the same sentiments he seemed to be convincing himself of–or at least trying to–and now it’d come down to this. Stiles grinding out the words, “I hate you,” through his teeth.

“You don’t hate me, Stiles,” Theo said with an easy confidence, a smile still playing on his lips, seeming almost nonchalant despite how much weighed on this conversation. How much attention he was paying, eyes sharply focused on Stiles and unable to look away. “You’ve never hated me. Disliked me, maybe, because you thought I was trying to take away your best friend, but never hated. You hate so few, one of the things I like about you.”

And oh, in that moment he knew that Stiles knew. That he’d figured this out long before this conversation, caught the glances that Theo had been trying to hide. Stiles had always been so clever, so smart, and though Theo had been subtle in his attentions–occasionally casually brushing his arm against Stiles’s in the hallway as he walked past him, looking when he thought Stiles couldn’t see him, tapping his pen against his lip in class as he thought about other things he could do with them. Picturing Stiles’s mouth, in all kinds of different ways, different capacities, functions. It’d gotten him in trouble a few times in class for supposedly innocently “daydreaming” but he couldn’t stop himself. Obsession was a powerful force.

“No, I hate you,” Stiles said firmly, his voice cold, hard. “I hate you for coming back here, I hate you for trying to get into the pack, I hate you for ruining everything, I hate you for–” He stopped, chest heaving a bit with the force of his anger, then continued so quietly that Theo almost didn’t hear. “I hate you for confusing me like this.”

Theo took a slow step forward, and was rewarded as Stiles didn’t step back. Another slow step, and Stiles didn’t move, staring resolutely at the ground, determined not to make eye contact, not to give Theo the in he needed. He steadily closed the distance between them, then slowly reached out a hand, pausing as Stiles shied away a bit like a nervous horse. And oh, he was nervous, Theo could smell it, see it, and he gently placed his hand on Stiles’s cheek, turning him back to face him. Stiles’s warm, melted chocolate brown eyes turned to him finally, and Theo’s smile continued a moment before his expression turned serious.

“You think you’re confused?” he said softly. “I was never supposed to end up like this, Stiles. This was never supposed to happen. But it did, and–” he leaned in close, so close, eyes darting between eyes and the lips that were nearly brushing against each other “–I can’t say I don’t want it to.” He exhaled softly against Stiles’s lips, reaching his other hand to gently brush his fingers against Stiles’s soft lips, and oh, oh, oh, he could hear Stiles’s heart skipping beats, and wasn’t that the best sound in the world?

Finally, he did it. He closed the small distance between them, removing his fingers–as much as he simply wanted to slip them into Stiles’s mouth and make him  _suck_ –and replaced them with his lips, a soft kiss, so gentle, so careful. So easy, more natural than it should have been, and for a moment, Stiles didn’t kiss back, lips unresponsive. But before Theo could worry, he began to kiss back, and a thrill went through Theo. Yes. God fucking yes. 

It was so careful at first. Porcupines making love, Stiles shaking slightly under Theo’s hand like he was going to fall apart at any moment. Like he needed to. And Theo wanted him to. Wanted him to finally break apart after all this stress and tension and pressure, just so Theo could put him back together again in a pleasing shape. Oh, to be obsessed. To be this much involved. He wasn’t sure he’d felt like this before.

After a minute, his tongue darted out cautiously, running slowly against Stiles’s bottom lip, and it took a few beats, a few steady breaths on his part through his nose before those beautiful lips parted for him, and he could finally explore as he wanted to, feel out Stiles, get closer to him than he’d ever been before. Yes. Yes, please, more of this, more of Stiles, and suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore, jumping into heat and passion, and for a moment Stiles tried to pull away but Theo easily pulled him back. Nipping and biting and sucking, scrapes of teeth and tongue tongue tongue. More, please. More, Stiles, please.

Finally, Stiles succeeded in pulling away, both of them breathless and looking at each other with dark eyes, Theo sure that his obsession was shining through, and it seemed to scare Stiles a little bit. No, baby, don’t be scared. He just wanted to–wanted to–

“Please,” he said in a slight rasp, hand still on Stiles’s cheek, the other one lightly gracing his waist, not his hip because he didn’t want to scare him away. Oh, please.

“I–I can’t. This was–” Stiles fumbled for his words, lips parted again, and Theo leaned in to press a soft, apologetic kiss on the mouth that was berry colored from their joined lips. Fuck that was good. Even just that, that chaste, innocent contact. He needed more.

“No, Theo,” Stiles said, shaking his head again, and Theo silenced him with another kiss, care in it, tenderness. Stopping just short of love. “Theo…” Stiles sighed softly against Theo’s lips, and another thrill went through him. He was going to die if Stiles didn’t submit to this. To him. 

His fingers tapped gently against Stiles’s lips again, almost but not quite a request, and then his thumb ran over the smooth surface of his bottom lip. And oh, it was so hard not to go further than that, not to keep going until Stiles was a wrecked, debauched mess. But he had to go slow. Had to try to keep a level head, or Stiles would shy away, so easy, so easy. He wondered how long he could wait.

“Stiles,” he breathed back in response, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek that seemed to have Stiles shivering. Oh, how cute. How nervous and unsure he was about everything. “You want it. I know you do. I can smell it. Just…come to me. Come here.”

“I’m here,” Stiles breathed slowly, and Theo smiled, hiding triumph behind his eyes. “Jesus, Theo, I’m here.”

“Good. Now be a good boy, and stay.”

***

This is wrong. Oh, Stiles knows it’s wrong, but how could he ever help himself? Theo is…Theo is…intoxicating, to say the least. He seems to know just how to kiss Stiles, making it just right the first time their lips touch underneath a starry sky in a parking lot while waiting for the others to return from a “patrol”. He wonders how many know, how many have sensed what was building between the two of them for so long. Not even that long. Theo hasn’t been here for much time at all, and yet this has started. Stiles feels want blossom in blush roses in his chest as Theo kisses him, first with a tenderness that shows how deep his feelings run, and then with a passion and fire that show how extensive and long repressed his desire is. He tries to pull away but his heart skips a beat when he is so easily, so dominantly pulled back, and he knows Theo can hear it, can tell that he likes to be handled that way. Even though Stiles didn’t really know it himself.

“Good. Now be a good boy, and stay.”

And oh, that command sends a little thrill through him and he wonders, wonders, wonders, if Theo can pick up the scent of arousal swirling in his gut. He wants more, but he’s already pulled himself away and he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to resist if he stays here. “No, Theo—” And fuck, there’s another kiss, another press of lips against lips that makes both his mouth and buzzing brain go silent, a feat hard to do. For one thing, he never shuts up, and for another thing, his brain chatters, chatters, and he can’t get it to shut the fuck up so he can have some peace. But Theo is silencing his mind in a way he’s never seen before, getting him lost in sensation that Stiles doesn’t want to resist. Can’t resist. Please, don’t resist. Unless Theo wants him to.

He pulls back abruptly, too quick for Theo to pull him back, and shakes his head, taking a step back though it backs him up against the driver’s side of the jeep, a trap he knows he’s almost willingly falling into. Almost.

“No, Theo. Stop,” he says, and Theo aborts the step he was about to take, halfway through it already. He draws his foot back, standing where he was before, and Stiles can finally breathe, the pressure in his chest easing somewhat. Only somewhat, because there’s something dark in Theo’s eyes, a barely reigned in obsession, and he wonders how deep Theo is already in, and whether he’s in that deep as well. No, no he’s not. And it scares him a little bit.

That fear must be showing on his features because Theo’s eyes are softening and he looks ready to speak, lips—soft, they’d been so soft—parted as if preparing to speak. Fuck. Stiles doesn’t want him to say anything, and holds up his hand to warn him off. Theo’s mouth closes. “Just—just give me a minute, okay?” he says a bit weakly, and Theo nods, reluctantly it seems. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself, centering himself as he looks up at the stars that are steadily being obscured by clouds, and maybe rain will delay the others getting back. Or make them hurry. And right now he doesn’t want them to find him and Theo like this, wants to resolve this before it gets even messier. But he’s wondering if he even can.

“You can’t…you can’t do it that easily. It’s not that easy,” he starts, eyes sweeping back to Theo again, whose expression is carefully maintained at an even neutral, though Stiles is sure there’s something off in his eyes. Something…well. He doesn’t really know. Can’t tell exactly what it is. And he’s not sure he wants to. Fuck, this is already complicated and his chest is getting tight again and he’s sure he’s on the edge of a panic attack and no no no it’s been so long and Theo can’t do that to him, can’t do that to him—

A touch to his cheek and Stiles crumbles, leaning his forehead against Theo’s shoulder before Theo draws him in for a full hug, Stiles’s face burying into the crook of his neck though his arms remained crossed against his chest, a defensive move. Something to comfort himself, establish a necessary distance between them.

Because he’d been so angry. So very, very angry, and now that’s all gone away and he’s not sure what to do with himself. Right now he’s shaking because he’s finally tipped over the edge of his stress, this has pushed him over and Theo’s here to comfort him and he really shouldn’t be as relaxing as he is, that smell of slight mint and some sort of teenage body wash and cologne, not cheap but not Danny expensive either. Whatever it is, it’s comforting and he wants to fall apart right there, but is restraining himself, shaking with the force of his restraint, of his careful control over himself that seems to be slipping. Oh, it’s slipping, slipping away, and he knows Theo can feel it, can tell. He doesn’t want that.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Theo says softly, a gentle murmur in his ear. A soft reassurance. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

But that was just the problem. Stiles doesn’t want him to be here, doesn’t want him to be the one to comfort him and stitch him back together. He’s supposed to do that alone, by himself, and he feels that he can’t trust Theo still, and he’s unsure he’ll ever be able to. And yet Theo started this, knowing full well how conflicted Stiles is about everything, how lost he is in a sea of uncertainty.

But he can almost read Theo’s mind. Can almost see what he wants to do with Stiles, how he wants this to play out. It was obvious in the kiss between them, and now it’s obvious in how tightly he’s holding onto Stiles, one hand carding through his hair to soothe him and god that shouldn’t feel as good as it does but he can’t help it, never could. Stiles responds to affection so easily, slips into it entirely and he’s never gotten enough to satisfy the gaping chasm inside of him that demands more. He doesn’t know where it comes from. Why it’s there. Just knows that he can’t say no to affection and kindness and Theo is offering both as well as a desire that Stiles is sure no one else has ever shown towards him. Enough to scare him a bit, though.

“Stiles,” Theo breathes softly, breath hot against his ear, and Stiles shivers against him. That voice is insidious, dangerous, a cougar sneaking up on its prey. Slinking through the grass, and he’s just waiting for Theo to pounce, waiting for the inevitable conclusion to all of this. Whatever that may be. But it’s coming, he can feel it, and he stutters out a breath just before Theo tips his head up by his chin and kisses him again, something so gentle in it that Stiles feels like he’s really going to break this time. Maybe. God, maybe.

Theo just seriously can’t seem to keep his lips off of him and Stiles wonders if he really minds, kissing back mindlessly, something powerful in his chest, but he knows it’s not love. Not obsession. Just…what? Lust, like? Maybe, he doesn’t know, and he’s got to figure it out soon because Theo is kissing him again and he only knows he doesn’t want it to stop. So much care, so much tenderness and Stiles’s lips part before Theo even needs to ask, that tongue slipping into his mouth again and driving him a little bit crazy. He’s kissed other people like this before but it’s never felt like this and he doesn’t know what that means. What any of this means, honestly, and that’s a problem, a serious problem. His arms uncross of their own accord, hands moving to grip Theo’s jacket lightly, and Theo is quick to change that, taking a firm but careful hold of his wrists and lifting them to the level of his head, pinning them back against the car as they continue to kiss with a smoldering heat, Theo seeming to increase the pace by the second because he was clearly so eager for this.

How many times had he thought about this already? How many times had he fantasized about getting Stiles in just such a position, maybe even more judging by the fingers that had nearly slipped into his mouth earlier, the pads of them barely brushing against the slightly wet inside of his lips? What else had he imagined, what else was he waiting for, looking for to happen? What did he really want from him, from all of this, from him when he knew that he still didn’t entirely trust him and was having trouble just breathing right now? He is a bit panicked, yes, but his brain was blessedly silent as he kisses Theo back, and after a moment, his wrists are transferred to one hand, still pinned against the car, and Theo’s now free hand drifts down, down, slipping up underneath Stiles’s shirt to feel the smooth skin of his abdomen, fingers running gently along his happy trail.

He inhales sharply and Theo smirks against his lips, palm pressing flat against him for the moment. No, no, he can’t keep doing this, this can’t just happen like this. He’s not ready for it, not prepared for everything it would entail. He just needs…just needs space from Theo for a little while. To decide things on his own, try and sort through the massive pile of shit that is his current emotional state, not to mention his goddamn stress level which is still through the roof, despite Theo quieting his thoughts for the present moment. Only for now, though.

All at once, he knows he can’t handle any more of this and pulls back abruptly, looking at Theo with slightly wild, slightly frightened eyes because he’s really not sure how far Theo is going to take this domination, quasi Alpha thing. But Theo is looking calmly back at him, though there is a slight hint of frustration in the set of his jaw, but Stiles can’t help that. Can’t do anything to alleviate it as much as he’d like to for his own sake, own safety, and he nervously licks his lips, still tasting Theo on them as Theo’s eyes dart to watch the motion. Oh, he’s in so deep, isn’t he? And Stiles has to wonder exactly what he did to catch his attention.

“I…I can’t do this right now,” he says, trying to pull his hands out of Theo’s grip, but it just tightens a bit. Great. That’s not ominous at all. He can see Theo’s jaw tighten, and he knows that he needs to say something else, before this gets dangerous. Because he honestly believes that it could. “I’m not saying no, Theo,” he continues carefully, and Theo’s eyes are fixed intently on his, moving as they look for a hint of deception, of a lie that Stiles isn’t telling, not for now at least. “I just…need some time. By myself.”

And he knows, _knows_ that Theo doesn’t want to give him that time, wants to overwhelm him with sensation now and see if he can convince him that way, appeal to their shared teenage lust. But he also knows that Theo realizes that if he pushes too hard, Stiles will break instead of bend, and while that idea might sound marginally appealing—okay, more than marginally, judging by how dark Theo’s eyes get when he’s looking at Stiles—it’s too early even if that is Theo’s plan. He still needs to get in before he can break Stiles apart. If that’s what he wants. Because honestly, Stiles doesn’t know much about “the plan” aside from that Theo clearly wants him in some capacity, whatever that may be, and will push as far as he can before he’ll recognize Stiles’s limits and maybe, maybe, reluctantly pull back. But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how far and where exactly Theo is willing to go.

“Please,” Theo says softly after a minute, just like he had before, and Stiles is shaking his head before he realizes what he’s doing. He can’t. He needs the space, needs the time, needs to actually step back for a minute from this, from Theo. Needs the noise in his head, for once, because it’s the only thing that’ll help him sort things out. If they even can be sorted.

Theo tries to press in for another kiss, his body already flush against Stiles, and Stiles can _feel_ how much he wants this, seems to need it. It’s almost cruel, isn’t it? Denying him what he wants when he’s clearly waited for so long? But where did this obsession come from?

Stiles places his hand over Theo’s lips, a poor imitation of what Theo had done earlier because the emotions on his side are completely different, not as lost in it as Theo was. In whatever his mind was concocting. “How long?” he asks quietly, eyes slowly drawing themselves up from where his hand is on Theo’s mouth to his eyes, and Theo looks resolutely back, an intent in them that Stiles doesn’t quite want to be able to read.

“Always,” he answers, and Stiles resists the urge to shiver, not sure how to feel about any of this. On one hand, it’s fucking creepy. Theo is charming, yeah, but also obsessive, and that’s a dangerous combination to be. Dangerous for Stiles, that is. But on the other hand…

On the other hand, when has anyone felt this way about him? When was the last time someone looked at him like this, with a force darker than obsession that Stiles can’t help his heart skipping beats at, and Theo can hear it, oh, he knows he can hear it. Too many werewolves around him, and he’s just a fragile human. But Theo…no. He’s not going to think that. He still doesn’t trust Theo, doesn’t know his motives, and definitely doesn’t want to fall into a trap that has been carefully set for him. But maybe this is an entirely different trap.

“Then I definitely need some time.” He tries to pull his other hand out of Theo’s grip again and succeeds this time, putting his hands on Theo’s chest and gently pushing at him. Reluctantly, Theo takes a step back, then another one, and Stiles is free again, breathing a touch off, along with his heartbeat, and Theo’s eyes soften as he seems to pick up on it. No. No, he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want Theo to look like he’s going to comfort him again because he’s really not sure what will happen if he does. Doesn’t want to know.

But right now, he can’t leave, as much as he simply wants to fumble for the door to his jeep and run away from this. They’re still waiting for the others to come back, Stiles left behind because he’s vulnerable, and Theo because as much as Scott seems to be warming up to him, he still isn’t entirely sure about involving him in pack matters. So. Stiles gets to sort of play babysitter to someone who could overpower him anyway, and just did, in a certain way. Only he didn’t think kisses counted as malicious, at least not in this case. Though they may have wounded him. Little nicks at his psyche, not enough to really hurt but enough to bleed. After all, he’s been wounded in his mind since the nogitsune, and he still hasn’t entirely recovered. Someday, maybe. With Theo?

***

_If you'll be my_ **star**    
I'll be your **sky**    
You can **hide** underneath me and come out at night   
When I turn jet black   
And you show off your light   
I **live** to let you shine   
I live to let you shine 

—Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk

 

He’d known that this was going to be the hardest part, that it was necessary, but now that he was actually in it, it was worse than he’d even imagined. But he knew, he definitely knew for certain that this part was necessary, because he’d known ahead of time that it wouldn’t be as simple and easy as just kissing Stiles and getting close to him through physicality. He’d known that Stiles would need time to adjust to it, to think for himself. And now the only thing he could do was wait for Stiles to come to him.

When the others returned from their patrol, Stiles was off like a shot, clambering into the jeep and driving off as soon as everybody who needed the ride back was in. Theo left on his own, of course, though he made sure to stay behind and talk to Scott a bit, feed into the concern that Scott was showing for the state of Beacon Hill’s supernaturals. But not into the concern that he was unconsciously carrying for Stiles. No, he wanted to be the only one privileged with that information, the only one that was available when Stiles needed somebody to break down on. He would be the only one, he was going to make sure of that.

There was a question, though, of how observant Stiles was, and whether Theo wanted to take a risk or not. Because clearly, Stiles had noted Theo’s interest before he’d revealed it. So had he realized that he was being followed, too? That a wolf in Theo’s clothing or Theo in a wolf’s clothing had been steadily, slowly stalking him, methodical in his advances? Or would he have simply dismissed it as paranoia if he did notice it? No, if he’d noticed, he wouldn’t chalk it up to paranoia. He was too on edge for that.

So now, did Theo want to go home—well “home”—or pursue again, watch Stiles from afar and try to gauge where he was at in his mental processes? There was danger in either one, but Theo had never been afraid of that. No, right now, he was just afraid that this wouldn’t turn out how he wanted it to. Usually he was so easily confident in these situations, knowing he could get away with nearly anything.

But Stiles, oh, Stiles threw everything off, always did. Too clever for his own good, so smart and so damaged that he was trapped inside of his own head. Theo wasn’t entirely sure where all of that damage had come from, just knowing that there was a certain time period before he’d arrived that none of them talked about, events that he was sure he’d never hear unless he carefully crafted a situation to learn them. Somehow, someday, he knew he’d be able to do it. But the hope, the absolute hope was that he’d naturally learn it all from Stiles himself. Right now, that seemed like a faraway goal, but it didn’t have to be. Tonight had been…productive. It’d been an advance on his part, and though Stiles hadn’t surrendered, he hadn’t fought back either. A step forward, and this time, no two steps back. A reward for good behavior, almost, though an unconscious reward from Stiles to Theo.

He waited until 1 am. More hours than he would like, but he needed to give Stiles time to think, time to adjust to his new set of circumstances, and Theo thought that Stiles realized that he was already trapped. Stiles knew from the beginning, and now, he was beginning to accept it. As he should, because Theo really wasn’t going anywhere. He was here for a reason, and Stiles didn’t need to know why until he was already too deep in to get back out.

Because oh, wasn’t that a lovely thought? Stiles not only giving in to him, but giving up and joining him, helping him. There was a barely tethered darkness inside of Stiles, and Theo knew it, wanted to unlock it. Wanted to tap into all of that potential. And he could, he could, he could, if only Stiles would let him. So close, and yet so far away. Stiles had been close enough to touch today, and Theo had indeed touched, but it wasn’t enough, and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had it all. Soon, he promised himself.

So he waited until 1 am, and then made his way up to the window of Stiles’s bedroom. It was a trip he’d made before, but usually Stiles wasn’t wide awake and staring at the window when he got there. Aww, the dear couldn’t sleep. Theo wondered if that was because of the night, or because of that darkness inside of him that was beginning to seep out, Theo coaxing it as best as he could.

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked softly after they stared at each other for a minute, and reluctantly, Stiles got up from his bed, moving to the window and opening it for Theo, who slipped in, landing solidly on the floor. A smile was gracing his lips, a small, light one, and he kept it trained on Stiles, who wasn’t looking at him, much to his displeasure. But he resisted the urge to take hold of his chin and tip his head back up to look at him, knowing that Stiles would be resistant at the moment, not as easily pliable as he was earlier.

Stiles moved back to the bed, taking a reluctant seat on the edge and keeping his eyes on the floor as he slowly rubbed his hands together, seemingly in an effort to distract himself. But really, it turned out that he was just picking his words, and Theo waited breathlessly while he spoke. “I said time, Theo. A few hours is not time.”

“What would you have preferred?”

“A few days,” Stiles said, looking up at him again. Those brown eyes weren’t warm as they usually were, frozen over like muddy snow in the winter, that deadly slush. Theo didn’t like them being so cold like that, but he understood. Stiles wasn’t receptive right now, wasn’t in the mood for this, but Theo needed him to be. Somehow.

“I can’t wait that long,” he answered, and Stiles looked down at his hands again, smoothing one over the other. He was scared. Theo could tell, could see it as well as smell it, and there was something glorious in that, isn’t there? He liked being feared just a bit, wanted that mixed kind of relationship with Stiles. After all, if your partner doesn’t fear you a bit, there’s a greater chance of losing them, and he wasn’t prepared to lose Stiles. It wasn’t going to happen.

He took a step forward, and Stiles shifted but didn’t move back, didn’t even look up. Good. Good boy, he wanted to say, but now was not yet the time, as much as Stiles had responded well to it before. Apparently he liked that sort of easy command that Theo exuded. “You know I can’t wait,” he said gently, and after a quiet moment, Stiles nodded, acknowledging it. He knew, he’d already known, and that was part of what Theo appreciated about him; his cleverness, his whirring brain that needed to be quieted sometimes. It was fine, he thought. He could solve that problem for him, had earlier.

He took another step, closing the distance between them with two more, and then put his hands on Stiles’s knees, forcing his legs just slightly apart, and Stiles didn’t fight him. He slowly got to his knees, slipping right between his legs and rubbing his hands along Stiles’s thighs. Stiles made a small motion, shifting slightly where he sat, and Theo knew he was winning. That he’d been winning from the beginning, not even just from earlier tonight. He nearly had Stiles where he wanted him already, and now came the final push.

He slowly began to press kisses along the inside of Stiles’s thighs, moving between both of them while he kept his eyes on Stiles, who swallowed, Adam’s apple visibly bobbing with the motion, and wasn’t that a beautiful sight. He wanted more of it. More of Stiles, all of him if he could have it. And he really thought he could. “Stiles,” he breathed softly, breath hotly exhaling against sweatpants, unsure how much Stiles could feel it, but knowing that he was going to do it anyway. He wanted to fan those whiskey eyes into a hot flame, melt the snow currently residing in there. And he could, oh he could, he could. “I know what you want.”

“This…this isn’t fair,” Stiles said, but his voice was clearly weaker than he’d intended. Good, good, he was making progress. “You can’t just try to win me over with this, Theo. Lust may be a powerful force, but obsession is stronger.”

Theo’s dark eyes flashed back up to him, and Stiles seemed to stop, words caught in his throat. Speechlessness was a good sign, wasn’t it? “And so what if I am a bit obsessed? You like it, Stiles. I know you do.”

And there was the telltale sign, Stiles drawing in a slightly sharp breath as Theo got farther and farther along his thigh, stopping just short of something he knew was already into half arousal. Had Stiles ever been touched like this? Had he ever had such care taken with him, or had he been a bit more disposable than that? God, Theo would never throw him away, and Stiles seemed to be getting that.

“What do you want, Theo?” Stiles asked, and Theo gave him a smile, eyes on Stiles, who couldn’t seem to look away.

“You,” he answered quietly, and Stiles nodded a bit, understanding. “So be a good boy—” another offbeat breath “—and let me have you.”

“I—I—I can’t,” Stiles managed to get out, and Theo shook his head, still smiling at him.

“The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history,” he quoted, knowing Stiles was smart enough to at least recognize it as a quote, even if he couldn’t identify what it was from. “You could be mine, Stiles. And I know you want to be,” he breathed softly, and Stiles seemed to be on the edge of denying it, but suddenly the tension in his shoulders slumped out of him and he exhaled slowly.

“This is a terrible idea,” he said, and Theo knew it, knew he had him there. He stood again, looking down at Stiles, who reluctantly looked back.

“It’s the best idea I’ve ever had,” Theo responded, and Stiles shook his head for a moment more, Theo’s heart skipping a beat as if expecting a rejection that wasn’t coming.

“Okay,” Stiles said after a minute and a glance at the ground, looking up at Theo again. “I’m all yours.”

And Theo smiled, and leaned down to kiss him tenderly, Stiles automatically kissing him back. And now, the fun began.


End file.
